


Cynical

by vanwithaplan



Category: DOUBLE DECKER! ダグ&キリル | Double Decker! Doug & Kirill (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Comedy, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, some bg dougkiri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanwithaplan/pseuds/vanwithaplan
Summary: After the recent brush with Nikai, Valery Vrubel questions his identity as well as his relationship with his boss.





	1. 5 a.m.

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever fanfic!! yay!! consider this after the hot springs episode ig because Derick is fully aware that Val is a man. this was originally supposed to be a one-shot but I figured I'd make it 2-3 supershort chapters in order to keep me motivated to write. apologies for any grammar mistakes.

Valery cringes at the smell that fills the tiny cubicle of the Double Decker bus bar bathroom, emanating from the soaked work clothes sitting in the sink. He shouldn’t be shocked by the smell -- clothes tend to smell bad after you don’t wash them for a week, but it disproves grandpa’s old philosophy that you can just Febreeze and ignore everything. It’s 5 a.m., and the bar is, understandably, deserted, excluding the sound of Derick’s snoring, which can somehow be heard a floor below. It’s peaceful, almost. Except it’s not. Valery isn’t supposed to be here, hours before he’s supposed to clock in, while his boss is very conveniently asleep, leaving the cash register exposed. He has a key, but this could be counted as breaking and entering, right? Or at least creepy. Definitely creepy.

He glances up at his reflection in the mirror, unsurprised by how tired he looks. There are unsightly circles under his eyes, and the minimal foundation he used to cover them up looks like it was applied in the dark, probably because it was (Electricity bills don’t shrink themselves, people!). He looks less like Milla, more like Valery, the last bits of masculinity not annihilated when he arrived on Earth shining through. It’s disorienting. He’s lived most of his life as Milla, and now he’s supposed to suddenly return to being his long-forgotten true self? It should be reassuring, liberating to break free of his last shackle to Nikai, his last reminder of the fear and suspicion of his childhood. But it’s not. It’s confusing, and scary, and _really_ makes Valery wish he had the money to pay for a therapist. But it was worth it, he figures, if it kept Kirill just a little bit safer. Everything he’s done in his life is for Kirill: his fake identity, the scavenging for food, and even his leaving were all to keep him safe and healthy, to shape him into a man who wouldn’t need his big “sister” anymore. Well, he’s become just that. Kirill has a steady job now, his own place, and, judging by the looks he’s been giving his partner, a hopeful future boyfriend. As much as Valery hates to admit it, Kirill can fully take care of himself now. So, where does that leave him? By the standards he’s been holding himself to, useless. That realization stings, but it’s not an unfamiliar pain - it’s a sensation he’s become acquainted with over the past couple of months, visiting him in solitary hours like these, coiling and pulsating inside his stomach like some sort of sickly animal. It throbs within him for hours, the incarnate of his fears, until he can do little more than sob as it pulls him painfully slowly into a chasm of despair. He can almost feel the ground giving way beneath him as he stares back at his reflection, and, oh god, he’s about to have a mental breakdown in the middle of a fucking dive bar’s bathroom at five in the morning.

At least, he is, until he notices something crucial. Something that makes every single hair on his body stand on end. The snoring has stopped.

A loud creak behind him confirms his suspicions.

“Step outside with your hands in the air. Now.”


	2. Derick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many new updates in this tag today, god bless :') val and derick are lucky that they're both over-polite idiots. and, once again, apologies for any grammar mistakes and a low-effort title!

Under normal circumstances, Derick is just about the sweetest, kindest absolute teddy bear of a man Valery has ever met. He is also a hardened, highly-trained former member of Lisvalleta’s elite police force. And is now standing outside, convinced that Valery’s some kind of psycho pants-washing criminal ripe to be processed through the Nikai-infested justice system. So, basically, every nightmare he’s had from age eleven and onwards. He feels his hands rise behind his head, shuffling slowly out of the bathroom, his thoughts racing. Derick will be understanding, right? He once offered to clean Valery’s apartment despite being unable to work a vacuum cleaner. Or to help him reach tall shelves. He wouldn’t turn him in, right?

Before he knows it, he’s outside He can see the whites of Derick’s eyes as they widen in surprise.

“Mil- er, Valery? What are you doing here?”

Valery’s mind anxiously pours over a few different explanations. It stops somewhere between “I’m doing laundry,” and “I’m not stealing.”

“I’m stealing.”

Two beats of silence follow, broken only by Derick’s confused “Huh?” And, suddenly, Valery realizes what he’s just said.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean to say that! You can check the cash register! My water got turned off, and I needed to do laundry. I brought my own soap and-”

In three quick strides, Valery has closed the distance between them. In a breach of judgment, Valery places his hand on Derick’s shoulder. His plea of forgiveness is interrupted when Derick honest to god _whimpers_.

“Please, step back,” Derick says, his face bright red.

And suddenly, Valery notices it. Derick has forgone the courtesy of putting on pants for who he assumed was a dangerous criminal. Valery isn’t fazed, really. He’s seen worse than a pair of boxer briefs from his previous bosses, and on their end it was intentional. But that doesn’t change the fact that Derick looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. Valery’s two steps back have never come quicker.

“Sorry. I’ve, uh, seen worse, trust me.”

“I should be the one apologizing!”

“Really, it’s fine,” Valery says, pulling out his most soothing smile usually used for animals or small children. He needs to de-escalate this before it turns into a five-minute, frantic battle of apologies like the last time Valery accidentally broke a glass, “I shouldn’t have been sneaking around so early, I must’ve scared you quite a bit. I’ll make it up to you. Can I do your laundry for you, too?”

Derick looks like he considers it seriously for a few moments, but then shakes his head.

“I couldn’t trouble you with that,” he raises one hand to brush across his forehead, trying to his best to refrain from cringing when it comes off covered in sweat, “I have a washing machine. Which you can use, by the way, if you need to wash your clothes again!”

“No, no, I’m the one who shouldn’t trouble you,” Valery says behind a half-hearted smile. Great. This has turned into some sort of polite-fight where nobody wins. “I couldn’t do that without, like, buying you dinner or something.”

Another two beats of silence. Then Derick speaks up, his tone almost one of awe.

“Would you?”

Once again, Valery’s brain needs a moment to catch up to his words.

“Once I have some money? Absolutely.”

“Wait. No. I couldn’t make you pay for anything,” Derick frets, clearly grappling for a significant reason to pay for their hypothetical dinner other than the now void “you’re a woman.”

Still, Derick’s eyes are aglow, scintillating in their pure hearted-ness. Valery has never been able to keep up with the dreams and hopes that’s behind those eyes - he’s always been a bit more cynical. But seeing Derick’s face shining with anticipation at the idea of them going out together, Valery finds himself thinking that this whole dinner date thing isn’t such a bad idea.

“If you don’t want me to pay, I’ll come and make you something, free of charge,” Valery says, leaving out a truthful but searing remark about Derick’s cooking.

Now Derick is the one who needs a moment to catch up to the conversation.

“You’d do that?”

“Uh-huh.”

Derick’s blush is visible in the muted light of the abandoned bar. He nods.

“Okay. Cool,” he says as if automated, “I’m going back to bed. Don’t, uh, actually steal anything while I’m asleep. And get some rest yourself.”

With another nod, Derick is lumbering sleepily up the stairs to his apartment.

“I trust you!” he calls down the stairs, which earns an amused smile from Valery.

Valery finishes the rest of his laundry in record time, humming and grinning softly to himself the entire way home. They have a _date_.


	3. 9 p.m.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this yggghhj but here take my hot garbage. no italics bcuz I can't figure out the formatting. i'll figure it out some day.

Doug and Kirill are dating.

The news came as a surprise, even to Valery, who had noticed Kirill’s infatuation with his partner probably before he even did. But as long as Valery’s known him, Kirill has a tendency to rush into things too quickly and cause them to take twice as long. However, Kirill’s premature tendencies seemed to have aided him this time, and Valery got an excited call he swears was made less than 2 minutes after Kirill himself got the news (He could hear Doug giggling on the other end of the line). He should be happy. He really should. And he is, sort of. But whenever he thinks about it, he can’t help but worry. Doug is a great guy, a fantastic guy, really, but he has just as much potential to break Kirill’s heart as any Tom or Dick. Not to mention (as much as he has to remind himself that Kirill is one too) he’s a cop. And if years on Lisvalletta’s streets have taught him, they don’t take very kindly to folks like he and Kirill once were.

Speaking of romance, it’s the one-month anniversary of the time that Valery asked out his very attractive, half-naked boss at 5 a.m. And absolutely nothing has happened. Their promise is all but forgotten, other than the fact that Valery agonizes over it about 3 times a day. He’s stuck reliving that embarrassing memory when he’s stirred from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Val, you alright?” Derick asks, his brow creased, “You kinda looked like you were spacing out.”

Valery hates himself for the heat he feels rising in his face in response to the nickname.

“I’m, uh, fine. Just thinking about stuff. Thanks.”

Derick doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but turns away anyway.

“Alright. It’s almost closing time, so you should start packing up.”

Valery responds with an affirmative grunt, watching Derick out of the corner of his eye as he turns to go upstairs. Suddenly, he stops, fingers drumming on the stair railing.

“You remember what you said to me a few weeks ago?”

Valery gulps, feeling embarrassed heat spread through his body. He’s avoided the topic for too long.

“About din-” he begins softly when he’s cut off by Derick’s louder voice.

“About how Kirill eats like an anteater? That was funny.”

Valery is sure he looks more surprised than he’d like to. “Oh, yeah. That. Yep.”

“Uh-huh.”

Silence hangs in the air. For most people, Valery likes to assume, this would be seen as a normal lull in conversation, but it makes Valery feel sick. Did Derick hear him? If he did, is he going to address it? Is he not going to? Should he say something? Should he wait? The silence makes him feel sick. He desperately wants to talk to Derick, more than anything, not just about dinner, but lots of things, like taxes and aliens and feelings. His silence feels like a failure.

Derick’s voice cuts him from his thoughts. 

“Were you saying something?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Valery hasn’t finished running the diagnostics for this situation in his head. The unpredictability catches him off guard. He wants to pause this conversation and return to it later, after figuring out the best course of action in the shower, like he’s done after every interaction with Derick. He wants to curl up in a ball on the floor. He wants to go home.

He plasters on a dazzling smile.

“About that dinner plan we made a while back. Is that still on?”

Valery notes Derick’s surprised expression. Touching upon some sadistic instinct, knowing he’s managed to fluster his conversation partner fills him with confidence. He keeps on smiling.

“Well, uh, we never set a date or anything…”

A flash of Kirill’s impulsiveness sparks within him.

“How about tonight?”

“Huh?”

“Tonight. You’re not busy, are you?”

Derick looks like he’s about to protest, but his expression suddenly softens. Valery can hear his pulse spike.

“Sure.”

__________

Valery is inside Derick’s apartment. The realization makes him giddy. He can’t hide how excited he is to take everything in, and his body buzzes with nervous energy. He feels like a schoolgirl over at her crush’s house for the first time. Derick looks just as nervous.

“Nice, huh?” he says a bit too loudly.

“Mhm,” Valery responds, his attention currently on a tiny trinket of the Lisvalleta police mascot. “Where’d you get this?”

“Doug. It was my quitting-my-job gift. Ugly, right?”

Derick sighs quietly.

“About Doug. He hasn’t dated anyone in a while. I feel like I’m giving away a bride.”

“Me too,” Valery says with a soft smile, “I think this is the first time Kirill’s dated anyone, other than his boyfriend in kindergarten. He used to beat up kids who made fun of them, I remember.”

“Sounds like a great guy.”

“They broke up after Kirill caught him eating his own boogers.”

“Well, I’ve only seen Doug do that once or twice, so I think he’s in the clear,” Derick replies.

Valery laughs, and most of his worry fades. He and Derick are just hanging out, as friends, right? This isn’t a date. That would be ridiculous. WhyWouldAnyoneAsNiceAndAttractiveAsDerick ever go out with him?

“If I remember correctly, you said something about making me dinner?” Derick asks, with a dorky eyebrow wiggle that has Valery laughing in spite of himself.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Despite the fact that Derick didn’t go out shopping for the occasion, he has the ingredients to make some spaghetti (Valery is relieved to realize that Derick isn’t a complete caveman), and dinner passes in an entertaining fashion. After dinner, the two of them relax on the couch.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to be a novelist. Write about growing up on the move and all. I think people might like it.”  
“I’d read your book.”

“You’d read anything I put out, and for that, I thank you,” Valery teases.

Derick shows him to the door, and Valery tries not to spontaneously combust from the feeling of Derick’s hand on his back.

“To be honest, though, I’m probably too stupid to make it as a writer,” Valery says, beaming.

“You’re not stupid,” Derick says suddenly, his smile fading. He almost sounds offended, “Don’t say that.”

“Huh. Don’t kid yours-” Valery begins when’s suddenly he’s enveloped by man. Derick is hugging him, and it’s knocked all air out of him like he’s the heroine of a drugstore romance novel. Or maybe Derick’s just squeezing him a little hard.

“Derick. Can’t breathe,” Valery musters out, and instantly feels regret as Derick slowly slides his hands from Valery’s waist. He wants Derick to put them back right now.

“Sorry. I should’ve, uh, asked permission or something,” Derick says, face flushed and eyes averted.

Regret and boldness surge through Valery’s veins. “Could you ask permission to kiss me?”

“Uh, what?”

“Sorry, that was awkward. What I meant was, ‘can you kiss me?’”

Derick looks shocked for a moment, and Valery can feel his heart deflate in his chest, when suddenly his lips meet with Derick's.

“Like this?” Derick asks, his voice trembling a bit.

“Exactly.”

Valery throws his hands around Derick’s neck, and little bubbles of happiness rise from the chasm of despair.


End file.
